


Why Party When You Could Study Instead?

by Okaylittlebrother



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: College Student Stiles, House Party, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Study Date?, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 18:38:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9250610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Okaylittlebrother/pseuds/Okaylittlebrother
Summary: I've been MIA for an entire year! This fic is in no,way,shape,or form finished. I just posted it because I needed to clean out my fic folders. I can't even remember when I wrote this, but it's for my sister because she wanted a fic that involved my mom's house (it's Victorian, she loves it so much!) This is not beta'd, so any mistakes are mine. Enjoy!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [defendt0pbunk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/defendt0pbunk/gifts).



> I've been MIA for an entire year! This fic is in no,way,shape,or form finished. I just posted it because I needed to clean out my fic folders. I can't even remember when I wrote this, but it's for my sister because she wanted a fic that involved my mom's house (it's Victorian, she loves it so much!) This is not beta'd, so any mistakes are mine. Enjoy!

 

 

 

Derek had no fucking clue where to park. The house he was going to was on a main road and it was a one way. There was a Catholic school/church thirty feet up the block with a parking lot across the street. He didn't want to be the asshole that parked in the parking spots that the residents of the block parked in, they hate that.

Derek climbs out of the Camaro and walks across the parking lot to get to the crosswalk to walk down to the huge victorian where the party was being held.

When he was younger, this house used to be abandon. The house was built in 1930 by a man named Charles Davis who manufactured desks for the Beacon County school district. In 1936, he burnt the house down with his wife and two daughters still inside. He was admitted to Eichen House two days after.

It was rebuilt in 1948 and whoever lived here now must've had it renovated because even though the white paint was chipping on the outside, it was still very beautiful. He started up the steps making his way down the long porch to the front door. he pulled the storm door open and stepped inside. Music was already vibrating the windows. He rang the doorbell, not sure if he should have because he wasn’t sure who would answer. When no one came-- he opened it himself and walked right in.

The house--whose ever it was, must’ve been out of town because it was packed. Derek had to weave his way through the crowd to even find a familiar face. He made his way to the livingroom where it connected to the foyer, where he found Isaac.

“Hey, Man. You made it!” He said leaning toward Derek’s ear, almost yelling, so the man could hear him over the loud music.

Derek Nodded. “Yeah! I-I had trouble parking.” He admitted truthfully. It wasn't a total lie. He just didn't want to park all the way down the street to walk all the way back up to this house.

Speaking of houses.

Derek tapped the beta on the shoulder to get his attention. "Hey Isaac?" He called loudly. Isaac turned back to him expecting a question. "Who's house is this?" He asked curiously.

"Oh! It's the Sheriff's house."

Derek gave him a look. "You're throwing a party at the Sheriff's house?" He asked a little horrified.

Isaac just patted him on the back. "Relax, he's out of town."

He made a simple connection, Stilinski is the Sheriff, Stiles is the Sheriff's son. "This is Stiles' house?"

Isaac nodded.

Derek pulled back out of his space and nodded. "Where's he at?" 

Isaac shrugged. "Don't know." He said before walking off, leaving Derek in the middle of a crowd of people.

He wasn't the dancing type, so he just grabbed a can of soda and headed outside to the patio, where there was less people.

He sat out there for awhile by himself. Only making small talk with a few people just for the hell of it, because why the hell not? He wouldn't have come if he wasn't going to be social. But he thought there might have been some decent people here, Scott and Isaac were okay. He saw Danny and Ethan, so that must've meant that Aiden was here as well. He saw Malia when he walked in--grinding against her girlfriend, Kira.

He was on his sixth Coke. He couldn't get drunk, because he was a werewolf. He figured he would get up and weave his way through the house to find the bathroom. He's been here for almost an hour and it seemed like a lot more people were in here than before. This house was huge; but not with this many people here.

He knocked on the bathroom door and waited for a response. When he didn't get one he cracked the door a little, peering inside. His eyes darted in every direction inspecting the room. Already, he saw who he thought was one of the twins--face down, passed out on the tile floor. Then he remembered that both of them were omegas, so there was no possible way they could be drunk. Derek slipped through the door seconds later and walked over to the unconscious body on the floor. He grabbed the back of the guy's shirt and turned him over. Nope. Not one of the twins. The guy moaned in his face and he grimaced and let the drunken guy fall back to the floor with a thud before he walked further back pulling the shower curtain back seeing a guy and a girl passed out on top of each other in the claw foot tub. He turned around and made his way out, closing the door behind him.

He really had to piss. He had to piss so bad, his dick was starting to hurt. He saw a staircase as he made his way across the room in the crowd of people. When he reached the top platform of the stairs, there was a pocket door. It was closed with a sign that read: **"OFF LIMITS!! Take your drunk ass back downstairs!"** It looked like Scott's handwriting. He stood there for a second thinking. No one was allowed up here, but he thought he was an exception, because he wasn't drunk off his ass. Plus, he had to piss like yesterday and this house was fucking huge so he _knew_ the house had more than one bathroom in it.

The huge oak pocket door creaked loudly as he pushed it open. Derek peers down the long hallway to figure out where the bathroom is. He finally sees black and white tiled flooring indicating that the door on the left was in fact the bathroom. The entire time Derek was "relieving" himself, he kept hearing noises from the door just off the bathroom. No one was allowed up here right? He walked over to the door and turned the doorknob and pushed it open.

Whoever was in the room must've heard it. "You shouldn't be up here, didn't you read the sign on the door? Or are you too drunk to--" he cut himself off as he turned in his swivel chair. "Derek." He gasped in surprise.

"Sorry." The older man apologized. "I-I thought this was a linen closet. There are no towels in here..." Derek mentioned while briefly looking over his shoulder then back at Stiles.

"Hm." Stiles hummed. "I'll have to put some in there." He said as an afterthought. "So why are you up here, anyway? There's a perfectly functional bathroom downstairs."

Derek rubbed the back of his neck nervously, looking away from Stiles. "There's uh, uh, a few drunk people passed out in there...and I _really_ had to pee. There's a sign on the door coming up the stairs," he gestured behind him. "That says: 'take your drunk ass back down the stairs' but i'm a werewolf. So, seeing how I can't get drunk in the first place, I figured it was okay." He explained. "And for the record," he laughed nervously, "I didn't even know this was your house. Isaac said he didn't even know if you were here or not."

"Yep." Stiles nodded. "This is my house." He said avoiding eye contact with Derek. "How--" he started, but cleared his throat. "How come you're here?" He asked. Derek was taken aback by his question and started looking a little offended. "I, uh, I-I meant 'how come you're here' as in why are you here?--"

Derek squinted at the boy with furrowed brows. What the hell was he talking about?

Stiles felt his face heat up in embarrassment. His gaze fell to his lap as he sighed heavily, mentality kicking himself for the screw up. "I--that's not what I meant. Let me start over." He offered, looking up at Derek. He took a deep breath, "what I meant was; I thought parties weren't your thing? I thought you hated them."

Derek ran a hand through his stubble as he fell gently against the doorway with a chuckle. "They aren't. I just thought it was going to be like, a small get together..." He said honestly.

Stiles scoffed at that as he brought the pen he held in his hand to his lips to bite on it absentmindedly, to hide the smile that had already crept to his lips. "When has there *ever* been a small get together in Beacon Hills? Honestly?" He asked.

"What about you?" Derek asked, totally ignoring his question. "This is your house. So that must mean it's your party." He chuckled. "And you're up here being an anti-social hermit, doing," he peered over Stiles' shoulder to get a look at the materials that were strewn across his desk. "Whatever it is you're doing." He finished when he didn't get a good look at all of his open books.

"Uh," Stiles laughed. "Not my party!" He explained, pointing his finger at Derek. "Isaac's." He corrected, gesturing downstairs.  "And actually," he turned in his chair and grabbed his Abnormal Psychology textbook off the desk and turned back to show Derek.  "It's Psych. Exams are in six weeks, so while everyone's partying their asses off downstairs, I prefer to stay up here and study mine off." He explained.

"Good for you." Derek said proudly.

"It's not the quietest, and the vibrations from the stereo are annoying, but I can at least get *some* studying done." He admitted.

"Good," Derek responded with a nod before he checked his phone for the time then slid it back into the pocket of his tight, dark jeans, "well, I should probably get going... It's past midnight."

Stiles gave him a smirk, "okay." He said staring up at him still.

"Sorry I interrupted your studies."

"No, man." Stiles waved off. "It's fine, I needed a break anyway." He admitted.

Derek pushed off the doorway and smiled back at Stiles before he turned to walk out of the bathroom to go back downstairs. "See you later, Stiles."

Honest to god, that was the first genuine smile he saw on Derek Hale's face in a long time and it looked good on him.

////

The next time Derek saw Stiles, was two weeks after Isaac's party, downtown at the library.

"Stiles," he greeted in a soft whisper as he placed a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder.

The gesture startled him a bit, making him jump and flail his arms, hitting Derek in the face with a seven hundred paged hardback book.

Derek groaned loudly and stumbled backward, as he brought his hand to his nose. He blinked several times trying to bring himself back to his senses. Normally, he would just use his werewolf abilities to dodge the book. He wasn't expecting that. But then again, it was Stiles...the boy who dramatically falls from a chair onto the floor if you raise your voice just slightly. Crimson liquid already poured from his nostrils. A long line of blood traveled down both lips, down his chin and had alright ruined his bright blue v-neck, which Stiles thought looked surprisingly good on him, by the way. It brought out his blue eyes when he shifted.

In milliseconds Stiles turned toward Derek and dropped the book that he held, "oh, my god, Derek! I'm so sorry!" He apologized in a loud, but hushed whisper.

He led the injured werewolf down the stairs and around the corner to the bathroom. Stiles maneuvered him to the sink, which Derek grasped tightly, making every muscle in both his of his arms flex. He leaned over the sink and let the blood drip down the drain as Stiles grabbed as many paper towels as possible and hurried back to Derek's side.

Stiles looked down at the bright red that contrasted against the porcelain of the white sink and felt light headed all of a sudden. "Derek." He said as He grabbed onto Derek's shirt to try to keep himself upright. "I hate....bloo- ." He muttered before releasing the man's shirt and collapsing to the cold tile floor.

When Stiles slowly opened his eyes he had no recollection of how he ended up on the floor with Derek hovered over top over him. His nose was already cleaned up and stuffed full of toilet paper. "I fainted, didn't I?" He asked slowly, voice raspy.

"Yeah." Derek nodded with a chuckle. "I guess it wasn't very smart of you to stand over the sink, watching as blood poured from my nose."

Stiles looked him up and down. Once. Twice. Thrice. Brown eyes staying focused on the bloodstain against the blue fabric of Derek's shirt. "I'll pay for that." He offered in a mumble, pointing to the blood.

"What?" Derek asked before his eyes followed the boys eyes to the stain. "Oh, no." Derek shook his head, "no need. Nothing a little Spray and Wash can't fix." He said with a reassuring smile before grabbing Stiles' hand and helping him to his feet.

"You sure?" Stiles asked, giving him a look. "What about your nose?"

"R-really. I-It's--it's fine, honestly." Derek insisted. "And it'll heal, it always does. Werewolf--remember?" He asked gesturing to himself.

Stiles went back to looking through the section he was in before Derek almost got a broken nose. He copied a few pages to take home to help him study for exams. Hopefully it helped.

"Anyway," Stiles said, ducking is head down into the Camaro as he drummed lightly on the hood as he spoke to Derek. "I hope that stain comes out. I'd hate to see it ruined. I really like you in blue..." He trailed off with a grin as he started to blush a little.

"I hope so too." Derek laughed. "Hey," he said getting Stiles' attention. "So, if you ever need help studying, i'm always available." He offered.

"But I don't have your number." Stiles responded with a confused look.

"We know some of the same people. I don't doubt that you'll eventually get it somehow." Stiles backed away from the car as Derek gave the boy a cocky grin before revving the engine and driving off.

  
////

He wasn't wrong.

He definitely got Derek's number. Now it was just the matter of texting him first. Which is something Stiles never did. With anyone. Because of a few reasons: 1.) he didn't know what he would say to not make himself sound like a total fucking spazz. 2.) he doubted that Derek even knew a damn thing about Psychology and 3.) texting Derek, right now would open the flood gates: first he'd asked him for a study session and possibly three weeks down the road they'd probably have really deep phone conversations at three in the morning.

Here goes nothing.

**[To Derek]: Hey, I think I may want to take you up on that offer.**

**[To Stiles]: What offer? Who is this?**

**[To Derek]: The "you helping me study for exams" offer**

**[To Stiles]: Stiles?**

**[To Derek]: No, the fucking Easter Bunny.**

**[To Derek]: Yes, Stiles!**

**[To Stiles]: Oh, well i'll be glad to help. Just give me the time and place.**

They agree on this Saturday at Stiles' house.

Derek turned on Dallas Street then turned the corner to drive down Stiles' street. He saw the Sheriff's black SUV under the huge Oak in the small front yard. Stiles told him about the parking space behind the fence outback. He didn't want Derek's car getting keyed by the crazy redneck neighbor's if he parked in their spot. Stiles explained to him that the family had at least six non-running vehicles parked all along the city block with out dated tags. So Derek pulled into the alley and parked his car next to Stiles' Jeep and went through the back gate.

He made his way up the narrow sidewalk, passed the patio and bounced his way up to the stairs to the porch. He knocked on the door and waited for Stiles or Sheriff to answer. When no one came he backed up and looked up toward one of the windows.  
"Stiles? Can you let me in?" He asked.

Apparently he wasn't loud enough, so he took it upon himself to go through Stiles' window. He climbed up to the roof of the shed and jumped the short distance to the roof of the house. He peeked through the window and saw Stiles sitting at his desk in front of a pile of books--wearing headphones. That's why he couldn't here the door. Derek pushed the window open and jumped in the room, landing on the bed. Thank god it hadn't rained in a few days. He climbed off the bed and fell to the floor with a thud, not knowing that the bed had been laying on a three foot platform.

Stiles jumped and clutched his heart before turning to see what the racket was. He screamed before he realized who it was laying on his floor.

"Holy fucking Jesus, Derek! What are you doing?" He asked, heart beating rapidly in his chest.

Derek groaned, not moving from the floor. "I knocked on the door. You didn't answer..."

"Oh." Stiles mumbled becoming quiet. "Sorry about that." He apologized, offering Derek his hand to help him up.

Derek grunted as he came up, dusting his jeans off them looks around the room. "Jesus, your room is fucking small."

Stiles huffed a laugh, "it used to be an attic. There used to be a claw foot tub on the platform you just fell off of." He explained, pointing to his bed. "There's still pipes underneath my box springs."

Derek took in his surroundings, noticing all the posters hung on the walls and the shelf in the front of the room with a flat screen in the middle; gaming systems on the bottom shelves and the severe lack of closet space. "Dude," he started, turning back to the teenager.  "Where the hell is your closet?" He asked dumbfounded.

"Oh," He laughed, gesturing around the room at the clothes racks. "I don't have one, hence why all my shit's on hangers." He explained before finally taking a seat in his computer chair. "How about that studying?" He asked while drumming on the surface of his desk.

Derek looked around for another chair when he didn't find one, Stiles spoke up as he rifled through a stack of papers, "there's not an extra chair, so just take the bed. If you prop your feet up, _take your shoes off, please."_

Derek nodded and toed off his shoes before he sat down tucking his feet underneath him.  "So, how much material do you have to cover?" He asked.

Stiles shrugged, "eh. However much I want."

Derek picked up the book on the nightstand; eyes widening when it weighed down in his hand. _Understanding Abnormal Psychology,_ he flipped through it quickly, eyeing the four hundred some odd pages. His flicked his gaze up to Stiles. "This is a lot of reading." The werewolf commented.

"Hardly." Stiles laughed. "Book was two hundred dollars and I've opened it a total of three times so far." Stiles turned in his chair, a stack of neon flashcards in his hand. "We should probably start with these." He suggested. Derek nodded and took the cards from him. "So just read the definition and i'll give you the term."

Derek shuffled the cards just incase Stiles placed them in specific order. "Okay, um," he started picking one from the top of the deck. "The study of origins that has to do with why a disorder begins." Derek reads off one of the cards as he eyes Stiles from the term.

Stiles chewed his lip in thought. "Uh, Psy-" he trailed off. He snapped his fingers a few times. "Uh, uh, shit. Uh, Etiology!" He said finally making up his mind.

Derek helped Stiles study for about two hours, occasionally heading downstairs to get something to snack on. About four o'clock Stiles packed up all his Psychology stuff and put it on his shelf in a neat pile.

Derek stood and wiped his hands nervously on his jeans, "if you need anymore help with studying until exams, just call or text me." He said with a smirk while he ruffed his dark hair.

Stiles nodded and flashed a smile at the man. "Sure thing."

Derek guessed that that was his queue to leave. Just said he was about to step into the hallway, "where are you going?" Stiles turned his head just a little, looking at Derek with sad amber eyes that caught the light just right for a brief moment.

Derek swallowed harshly, taking in the sight before him. With a shake of his head he brought himself back to reality. "Huh?"

"Where are you going?"

"Oh, uh," he stalled. "I was gonna head out," he explained pointing over his shoudler. "It's almost dinner and your dad probably wouldn't want any visitors here when he comes home."

"Oh. Actually, the Sheriff is working late the rest of the week. I was just gonna order in and play Battlefield 1 with Scott. You're welcome to say if you'd like." He blinked a few times; the tips of his long lashes brushing his pale cheekbones, making Derek almost forget how to breathe.

"Sure." The dark hair man replied, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly at the offer.

The two of them headed down the stairs momentarily just before Stiles grabbed his phone off the bedside table and shut his bedroom door behind him.

As Derek reached the bottom of the stairs, sock-clad feet sinking in the plush carpet. He marveled over the chandelier, and the tall doorways lined with Mahogany trim. He turned the corner and eyed the China cabinet that was filled with fine China and silver cutlery. He ran his hand along the smooth wood. He tugged gently on the handle, opening the cabinet door. He slowly swiped his index finger over the rim of one of the cups. 

"Careful," Stiles warned softly, trying not to scare the man. Derek turned with a surprised look on his face. "That entire cabinet was my great grandmother's."

"Oh." Derek said, pulling his hand to his side and carefully shutting the door. "I apologize." He said softly before walking past another huge pocket door into the livingroom, eyes darting from wall to wall, noting all the decor that hung on them. "Your home is fucking gorgeous, Stiles." He complimented as he looked over his shoulder at the teen.

"Dude," Stiles huffed a laugh. "Weren't you here a few weeks ago? For that party?" The teen asked.

Derek nodded tentatively, "yeah." He said as he laid his hand on the Mahogany trim. "But there was so much people here that I didn't get a chance to thoroughly observe my surroundings." He said as he walked through the swinging door to the kitchen. 

"Now you see why I wasn't down here the majority of the time." Stiles smiled as he stocked toward the stainless steel refrigerator, grabbing a menu from it. "So," stiles huffed as he hopped up on the counter, holding the menu out to Derek. "Tell me what sounds good and I'll order."

Derek rambled off a bunch of options for Stiles as he was on the phone trying to order. The bill was about twenty bucks all together, plus fifteen for delivery; which was fucking ridiculous, because Stiles lived right down the street from the place. The two of them could easily drive there together and pick it up. Stiles refused.

The wait was almost an hour, because they were always busy on Saturdays. Stiles didn't mind. He swung his feet against the cabinet doors as he hung the phone up. "We got an hour." He annouced. "What do you wanna do?" He asked with a smile and a tilt of his head.

Derek rubbed the back of his neck and huffed a laugh, "uh, I don't know?" He shrugged.

"My tv has a super clear picture, you wanna watch Supernatural with me?" The teen suggested as he hopped off the counter.

"You mean the huge movie screen in the living room mounted to the wall?" Derek joked. Stiles nodded.

"Uh, yeah?" Stiles asked confused, with a laugh as he rolled his eyes jokingly at the older man. He walked passed Derek into the living room, Derek following suit seconds after plopping down on the other couch that sat against the casket window that Stiles hadn't already occupied.

When Stiles turned the tv on, Derek's eyes lit up. "Jesus Christ--"

"I know right?" Stiles replied in equal amazement.

Derek's eyes traveled around the room noting the speakers. Surround sound. He guessed Stiles didn't turn it on for the sake of his werewolf hearing. He couldn't help but smile at the consideration. 

Stiles flipped through that social media icons at the bottom on the screen with the remote. Derek glanced between him and the tv. "Your tv has internet?" He asked in amazement.

"Yeah." Stiles replied clicking the Netflix icon. "But I only use it for Netflix." He added as an afterthought as he went through his recently watched shows to find Supernatural.

They got through an entire episode before there was a knock at the door.

"Got it!" Derek volunteered immediately. He jumped up quickly and looked at Stiles. "Money?" He asked.

"Oh!" Stiles shoved his hand in his pocket and dug out his wallet, pulling out a fifty. "Here."

Derek took the money and ran to the door. After he paid for the food he came back into the living room and handed Stiles his change. 

Derek sat the bag of food on the foot stool and took his seat once again on the couch in front of the window.

Stiles dove for the bag right as Derek sat down. "Oh, my god!" Stiles cried. "I'm so hungry."

Derek just stared at him wide eyed for a second and Stiles gave him a sheepish smile, as if he didn't care what Derek thought about his eating habits.

Derek stood once more and stepped over Stiles' legs to get into the kitchen.

"Where're you going?" The boy asked curiously.

"Oh, I was just gonna get plates and forks." Derek explained as he gestured to the kitchen behind his shoulder.

"No, no, no man." Stiles scoffed with a shake of his head and patted the open spot on the couch next to him. "Come sit, I wanna show you a trick."

The older man did as he was told and took a seat next to Stiles as he pulled the carton of rice out of the bag. "See, the containers are usually packed so full that you have to use this," he have the rice carton a little shake. "To pile the rest of your food onto."

"What?" Derek asked in disblief. "How can you shove all the other shit in there with the rice?"

"Like this," Stiles opened the rice and started to slowly pull the corners of the paper container apart, careful not to spill the rice everywhere.

Derek huffed a laugh. "I guess you learn something new everyday. I never knew you could do that."

They watched an entire episode and half of another as they ate, sharing their opinions with one another about the show.

It was getting late and Derek finally sat up and removed his feet from the foot stool in front of him. "I should really get going." He suggested.

Stiles checked the time on his phone. It was only 8:12. "It's still early. The Sheriff shouldn't be home for another hour. Unless you don't want him to know you were here." He nudged Derek's arm and winked at him teasingly.

Derek chuckled and ducked his head to hide his obvious blush, "no, I uh, should probably head out. It's getting late and I have an early shift in the morning."

"Oh." Stiles muttered.

"But, thank you so much for dinner." Derek said fondly, placing a hand on the boy's knee. "And if you ever need help studying or you just want to hang out, you should definitely get ahold of me."

Stiles head perked up at the idea and he grinned. "I will. I-I-I will definitely get ahold of you." He told him matter of factly.

Derek made his way over to the back door and Stiles scrambled to his feet. "Should I- I should walk you out shouldn't I?" He asked, sounding not so sure of himself.

The werewolf nodded. "That would be nice, yes. But you honestly don't have to do that."

"I insist." Stiles said as he made his way into the other room to follow Derek out the back door.

He was careful not to let the back door shut on it's own because he already shattered the glass once and it doesn't it help at all that it sounds like a gun shot when it closes.

The two of them made their way down the narrow sidewalk to the back gate.

Derek climbed in the car and looked up at Stiles from the driver's seat.

"If you're ever driving down Main Avenue and you see Roscoe parked out front by the big oak, just assume it's because I want you to have somewhere to park so your Baby doesn't get dinged up by the neighbors." The boy explained as he gestured to the slab of concrete Derek's car was currently parked on.

"You named your Jeep?" Derek asked teasingly.

"Yeah, I love him." He admitted proudly.

Derek laughed.

"But, there's nowhere to park on Sundays because the Catholics like to take your parking spot when you leave to go grocery shopping for breakfast." He laughed. "So yeah, my Jeep's normally back there but you can have it when you come over."

"Are you just assuming that i'll be over here all the time, so you gave me my own parking space?" Derek asked with a chuckle.

Stiles went quiet as a blush crept up his cheeks. "No," he said quietly. "Not all the time, just until finals are over..."

"And when are finals over?" Derek beamed up at the younger boy.

"Four weeks...ish?"  He guesstimated, totally unsure of himself.

"Mhmm." Derek hummed. "What about when finals are over? Then what are you gonna do?"

Stiles just shrugged.

"You still want me to come over? Maybe you should throw more parties." He grinned.

Stiles sighed, "I told you, that wasn't my party, it was Isaac's. I just let him use my house since my dad was out of town."

Derek nodded and finally turned the key in the ignition, making the engine roar to life. "So when's your next study session? I'll swing by for a bit."

"Uh, Thursday, four o'clock. I have one morning class on Friday...but it's only an hour so i'll just text you or something."

"'Kay. See you Thursday then." Derek replied with a wink.

That was totally unnecessary. Stiles could've lived without the wink. Now Derek was watching him blush in the rear view like an idiot as he drove down the alley.

**Author's Note:**

> I thought about coming back to tumblr, but I can't remember my password, so I might have to make a new one :(


End file.
